Time is a Thief

We are approaching the two year mark of when Grandma Cathy passed away. (It's funny to me how she is Grandma Cathy in my mind, even though that was only her title for a very short time on earth. But it was one that she was so proud of, so I try to honor her memory by thinking of her that way.) It is hard to believe that it has already been two years. I think of her often. Matthew mentions her every now and then. Usually it is in the form of a question.  He wants to clarify which "grandma" gave him certain things.  In addition to Grandma Cathy, he also has Grandma Blowe and Grandma Rose (both of my grandmas, so Matthew's great grandmas).  I know he probably doesn't actually remember Grandma Cathy.  He was so little when she died, just 8 months old. But he has seen pictures of her with him as a baby and he recognizes her. He recognizes things she gave him and he hears us talk about her. Just the other day Matthew rediscovered his stuffed version of Clifford the Big Red Dog, which Matthew calls Baby Cifford.  He asked where it came from.  I told him that was one of the first toys his Grandma Cathy bought him after he was born.  He said "I didn't tell her thank you."  He wanted to call her and tell her.  I told him that he couldn't because she lived in Heaven now.  He put his little hand on his chin, titled his head and thought about it for a minute.  He asked, "Heaven's up in the sky with Jesus right?"  I told him yes.  I continued to get him ready for daycare.  He decided that Baby Cifford would be his nap partner that day so he tucked him under his arm and out the door we went.  As he was coming down the steps, he stopped, looked up and shouted, "Thank you Grandma Cathy for my Baby Cifford.  He's my best fiend.  I love you all time."  And then he walked to the car.  I got a little choked up.  A little while into our drive, he asked if we could go see Grandma Cathy.  I told him no because she is in Heaven.  He said that he wanted to go to Heaven and see her.  It was so very sweet.  Ever since that day 2 weeks ago, he has slept with that red dog snuggled up under his chin.

We probably don't talk about her often enough. And I feel guilty about that sometimes.  I don't want anyone to think that we have forgotten about her.  Believe me, we haven't.  It isn't that we don't love her and want to remember her. It is just hard. We still miss her a lot and so it hurts. We are angry that we feel that we were cheated out of more time with her by her choices. And sadly life just goes on. It doesn't stop when someone we love dies. We have to carry on. We have to keep living, no matter how much we miss them. We owe Matthew and ourselves a happy life, Cathy would have wanted that. So I am going to try not to feel guilty that this past year hasn't held as much reflection and remembrance as the previous year.

We sometimes find ourselves in the middle of something and suddenly we stop and comment how she would have enjoyed it.  We see Matthew doing something incredibly adorable (like doing a crazy dance) and we tell him how much his Grandma Cathy would have loved to see him do that.  We tell him that she would have loved him so very much.  We know she would be totally wrapped around Matthew's little finger by now and she would have spoiled him even more than he already is.  We recall specific stories and random memories occasionally.  I am finally to the place where I don't tear up every single time that we tell a Cathy story.  It is always nice when someone else shares a memory or story about her that we don't have.  And it is nice to know that other people still remember her and miss her like we do.  Hearing things that other people remember is like giving us a little piece of her back. It adds to our bank of memories.  Time is a thief when it comes to memories. Not stealing the memories exactly but snatching the details that give the memories life - the little pieces that make the memories more than just a dream.